A Random Seventh Year Story
by Chesliemeanie2005
Summary: I've only just realized! Cho is a year older than Harry. Oh, well. I don't feel like changing it now.rnDisclaimer: I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters or locations or ideas...rnrnThis is a seventh year story. I wrote a 6th year story in my
1. Fratres

Harry remembered how things were at the end of last year.

"Do you think that Cecelia person will be here again?" he asked Hermione. Hermione had known Cecelia pretty well. She had been the first person in the school to talk to her.

"Oh, yes, she'll definitely be back. Professor Dumbledore adopted her, remember?"

"Oh, yeah."

Hermione, Harry, Ron, Neville, and Ginny walked into the entrance hall, Luna Lovegood vaguely following a few feet behind them.

"Hermione!" Cecelia called, waving from the first floor. She signaled for them all to come upstairs. Hermione ran up the marble staircase, followed by the others.

"Hey, Harry!" called Seamus Finnigan, "Where are you going?"

Harry pointed towards Cecelia, and Seamus and Dean Thomas seemed to decide to follow them.

"Hermione. Dean and Seamus are coming."

"Ok," said Hermione, as though it thoroughly did not matter.

"Come on!" Cecelia lead the way to her room.

Cecelia was the right age to be in 6th year, though what year she was actually in was rather hard to say. In Charms, she was on a 7th year level, but in Transfiguration, only a 4th year level, and in History of Magic, which was easily the most boring class, she was barely at a 2nd year level. She had been doing mostly independent study since she had come to stay at the castle in April.

Cecelia opened the door to her room, or at least what had previously been her room. Now it appeared to be a rather small common room, and sitting in a chair by a window was a young teenage girl.

"Look! It's my cousin Benton. She's come to stay here, too."

Benton waved hello and started to say something, but she was interrupted by a rather unwanted intrusion.

"Well, well, well. Skipping the feast, are we?"

"Hi, Draco," said Cecelia, her demeanor changing drastically. She seemed more reserved whenever Draco Malfoy showed up.

"We're not skipping the feast," she said, shaking her head, "I was only introducing everyone to my cousin, Benton." Draco looked through the small crowd of people at the tiny girl in pink shorts and t-shirt at the other end of the room.

"A muggle?"

"Perhaps," Cecelia replied, obviously trying not to start a fight, "But remember what we talked about?" Draco gave a small nod, and moved past Harry and Seamus to Benton.

"Hello." Draco offered his hand. "I'm Draco Malfoy. I'm a friend of your cousin's." Benton held out her hand, standing up.

"I'm Benton. I've heard about you. You look like me." Draco evaluated this statement and said,

"So, I do."

Benton pulled her hand away from Draco's and said, "Isn't there some feast to go to?"

"Yes," said Dean, "Let's hurry, we've probably already missed part of the Sorting."

They went down the marble staircase and into the Great Hall.

They were in time to see Laura Seeder sorted into Ravenclaw. They sat down as a group at the Gryffindor table. The other Gryffindors were used to Cecelia sitting wherever she pleased, but they had none of them ever seen Benton before, and they were definitely bristling at Draco Malfoy, a most hated student of Slytherin, sitting at their table. After Cecelia had come, Draco had started being nicer to everyone, but most people couldn't forget the nearly 6 years during which he probably would have killed them all, had he had the opportunity.

Shia Zachary was sorted into Slytherin. He took two steps toward the Slytherin table, then fell to the floor, crying. Professor McGonagall rushed over to him and asked him what was the matter.

"I don't want to be in Slytherin!" he cried.

"It's ok. You don't have to be in Slytherin. You can be in Hufflepuff." At this, Shia cried even louder. As Shia was the last person to be sorted, Professor McGonagall walked with him, almost carrying him, out of the Great Hall, and the stool and Sorting Hat were left on the stage.

"Why wouldn't he want to be in Slytherin?" Draco asked Cecelia. Cecelia didn't know what to say and her pause allowed someone else to speak.

"I didn't want to be in Slytherin," Harry said, "I'd heard that Slytherin had turned out more Dark Wizards than any other house, and I didn't want to become a Dark Wizard. It's a funny thing, though. When I said I didn't want to be in Slytherin, the Sorting Hat put me in Gryffindor. I wonder why it didn't do the same for Shia?" Draco goggled at Harry.

"You were meant to be in Slytherin?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes," said Harry idly. He found that he now hated Draco Malfoy no more than he hated Colin and Dennis Creevey, which, truthfully, wasn't very much.

"We have two guests with us this year," Dumbledore was saying, "You may remember Cecelia, who came to us in April and occasionally joined in classes, and will continue to do so at her discretion. And our other guest is Benton Bennett, Cecelia's cousin. Benton may also join classes if she wishes, though I have no idea what her plans are. Please, everyone, feel free to speak to Cecelia and Benton. They are both very friendly and eagerly await whatever you have to say to them. Now, let's eat." Dumbledore sat down, and food appeared on the five tables.

"Is it true, all he said?" Ginny asked Cecelia and Benton, "Did you know he was going to say those things about you?"

"We didn't know. But it sounded true to me." Cecelia looked at Benton. Benton nodded.

"Yes," she said, staring in the direction of Dean Thomas's chest. It gave one the impression that Benton's eyes did not work, but she had been known to use them before, so perhaps she was just thinking.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Dean, Seamus, Draco and even the small Luna and Ginny, piled their plates high with food, and took second and third helpings, but Cecelia and Benton barely ate anything.

"What's the matter?" Hermione asked Cecelia, "Are you feeling all right?"

"I'm fine. I just don't eat very much."

"I remember you eating more than that last year."

"That's because I was excited about being in a new place."

"Oh. What about you, Benton? Why are you eating so little?" Benton looked around at Hermione, again giving the impression that her eyes did not work, and that perhaps her other senses were dull, too, and said,

"I, also, do not eat much."

* * *

After the feast, while everyone was heading to their dorms, Harry pulled Benton aside.

"You don't like it very much here, do you?"

"What gives you that idea?"

"The way you were acting at the feast—kind of lazy. I act that way at my aunt and uncle's house, because I hate it there."

"Oh, well, it doesn't mean anything, Harry. I just get that way sometimes. Sometimes, I feel rather disconnected from the world. But I still like you and Hermione and all those other kids I met today."

"Oh, all right." Harry hadn't any idea what it meant to feel disconnected from the world, but he thought at least Benton seemed happy.

Harry watched Benton into her and Cecelia's common room and took the rest of the trip to his own common room and to the dormitory he shared with Neville, Dean, Seamus, and Ron.

"That Benton girl seems a little out of it, doesn't she?" said Ron, as if he had been waiting for Harry to arrive just so he could say it.

"She's out of something. But I don't think she's crazy or anything."

"I'm not so sure."

"You've only known her for an hour!" said Neville, "And you've barely spoken to her. 'Sides, from her accent, I think she's from U.S.A. People probably just act differently there."

"Oh," said Ron, for that had not occurred to him, "I suppose you're right." Ron got into his bed and pulled the hangings closed. Harry did the same, and he was soon asleep.


	2. The Sorting Hat's Mistake

The next morning, Cecelia woke Benton and they walked to the Great Hall, Benton lagging behind as if she didn't quite know what was going on.

"Harry," Cecelia said, sitting down next to him, "Do you know where Shia is?"

"Shia?" said Harry blankly.

"Remember. The boy who didn't want to be in Slytherin."

"Oh, yeah. No, I don't know where he is." Cecelia looked around for a moment, thinking.

"Do you have a way of finding out where he is?" Harry wondered for a moment if he should…

"Yes, I do."

"Ok, then. Find out." Harry took a moment to realize that she meant right then.

"Ok. Follow me to the Gryffindor common room." Harry ran out of the Great Hall and Cecelia and Benton, who now seemed more awake, jumped after him.

They stopped in front of a painting of a very fat lady in a pink dress and Harry said, "Cedric Diggory." That password had been Harry's idea. Finally, after more than two years, it was starting not to hurt as much to think about Cedric.

The painting swung forward to reveal a circular hole in the wall.

"Wait here," said Harry. He ran up to his dormitory and got the Marauder's Map out of his trunk. He ran back down the spiral staircase, but just before he reached the common room, he stopped and pulled out his wand and, tapping the map, said, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," thinking it wasn't true.

"Ok," said Harry, closing the portrait hole behind him, "I know where he is. Follow me." According to the map, Shia Zachary was in a classroom on the third floor. Harry walked as quickly as possible toward the pacing dot, half trying to hide the map from Cecelia and Benton. However, it soon became apparent that neither of them cared about the map, or how Harry knew where to look for Shia.

Harry opened the door without hesitation. Cecelia and Benton followed him into the room, and there they found the skinny, blonde boy who had cried over his house placement. He looked at them as if they had come to tell him what his future would be. He looked on the brink of more desperate tears. Cecelia stepped forward and Shia moved toward her. She held out her arms and he moved into them.

"I don't know what I'm going to do!" He cried, "I researched the four houses before I came. My father looked at my notes and said I would undoubtedly end up in Slytherin. I told him I did not want to be in Slytherin. He said instincts of self-preservation were in my blood, and if I didn't get into Slytherin, he'd test my self-preservation abilities with his belt." Harry made an indignant noise. "My dad isn't even a wizard! Hogwarts is supposed to be my thing! But my dad just has to make it his and he has to make me do it his way." Cecelia moved so she could look at his face.

"So. You're in Slytherin. What would happen if your dad found out?"

"He would gloat. And he would use the fact that he was right as an excuse to abuse me a little more."

"But you'd rather not be in Slytherin."

"That's right." Shia scowled. "But I _don't_ want to be in Hufflepuff. I know what Professor McGonagall said I could be in Hufflepuff. It's because Helga Hufflepuff was the least discriminating of the four founders of Hogwarts. Slytherin was the most discriminating. But it wasn't a problem until he tried to make the whole school, and not just his own house, meet his _standards_," Shia said disgustedly.

"I guess it really doesn't matter which house I'm in, as long as it's not Slytherin."

"What did the Sorting Hat say to you?" said Harry, stepping forward. Shia looked at him in confusion.

"It didn't say anything. It just shouted 'Slytherin'. Cecelia looked at Harry. Benton stared in between them, idly talking in the scene.

"The Sorting Hat talked to me before it decided," Harry explained, "It said I would do well in Slytherin, but I told it I didn't want to be in Slytherin, so it put me in Gryffindor." Shia looked excited.

"Did the Sorting Hat say anything to you?" he asked Cecelia. He also looked awkwardly at Benton, wondering if she was paying attention.

"We weren't Sorted," said Benton, as though in her sleep, "We're not really students." She looked directly at Shia. "We just live here with Albus Dumbledore."

"Oh. Well, if…if I tell the Sorting Hat that I don't want to be in Slytherin, it might put me somewhere else, right?"

"Yes," said Cecelia, standing up. "So, let's go to Albus Dumbledore's office. That's where the Sorting Hat lives." Cecelia led the way to the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's office. "Banana Bread." Cecelia felt Shia's jolt of surprise. They stepped onto the moving staircase and Cecelia knocked on the door at the top. Professor Dumbledore threw the door open. He looked slightly confused.

"Hello! What can I help you with?"

"Shia wants to use the Sorting Hat again," said Benton, staring at the floor.

"Ah. Well, come in." Cecelia walked in with Shia and Harry followed. Benton stood in the doorway for a moment, and when the others turned to look at her, she said, "I'm going to go…." There was a moment of silence in which everyone wondered what was up with her.

"She's probably just feeling detached from the world again," said Harry.

"No," said Cecelia, "She's leaving for some purpose. I'll ask her about it later."

Shia was reaching tentatively for the Sorting Hat. Harry walked over, picked it up, and put it on Shia's head.

"Oh," said the hat aloud, "I see I was mistaken before…. You certainly don't belong in Slytherin. That would be like throwing someone who can't swim to the sharks. But if not Slytherin, it'll just have to be Hufflepuff." Shia made movements of protest. "Don't let that get you down, young friend! You'll have all the same opportunities for learning and I know you'll have some excellent friends to help you along the way," it said, indicating Harry and Cecelia.

Harry looked around just then and saw Dumbledore sitting in a chair on the other side of the office, watching them with that familiar twinkle behind his glasses.

"Sir," said Harry as he moved toward Dumbledore, "Has anything like this ever happened before?"

"Many students have been unhappy with their house assignments. Most of them got used to it, but a few have been allowed to switch." Dumbledore looked back to Shia and Harry turned around, too. Shia was holding the hat, unsure of what to do. Harry went to take the hat from him but Cecelia got there first. She gently lifted the hat from Shia's hands and placed it not exactly where it had been before.

"Why don't you put it on?" said Shia. Cecelia stopped. What would be the good of being Sorted?

"Remember what you said? That it doesn't matter what house you're in, as long as it's not Slytherin? Well, I think it doesn't matter at all. I already know what kind of person I am. I don't need the hat to tell me. And I don't care to join a Quidditch team or become a prefect, so being in a house would be pointless."

"Then why do _I_ have to be in a house?"

"Let us hope," said Dumbledore, approaching them, "That before your time at this school is over, this practice of sorting students into houses will be abandoned."

"I remember the Sorting Hat saying we shouldn't do it!" said Harry excitedly.

"Yes. And now, you, Harry and Shia, should get to your classes. Here are your schedules." He handed them each a piece of parchment. "Cecelia…"

"See you later!" said Cecelia, with a friendly, left-handed salute. And the three of them left Dumbledore to whatever he would do.

* * *

Harry, Cecelia, and Shia walked down to the entrance hall. Cecelia and Harry turned toward the passage that lead to Potions class. As she reached the passage, Cecelia turned to watch Shia leave through the front doors. But he wasn't there. He was back at the foot of the marble staircase, looking apprehensively in their direction.

"What's wrong, Shia?" said Cecelia, walking back toward him.

"I—I don't know where to go."

Cecelia left to help Shia find his Herbology class, and Harry continued onto Potions. He found Benton sitting in front of the door to the dungeon classroom.

"A castle is such a silly place to have a school," she said, "To live even." She stood up. "Where is Cecelia?"

"She's with Shia. Benton, where are your parents?" Benton was quiet, as if the question were a difficult one.

"I can't answer that question."

"Why not?" asked Harry, surprised.

"My parents are dead."

"At least they're not insane," said Harry, thinking of the Longbottoms.

"Uh…what?"

"Well, wouldn't it be worse if your parents were alive, but thoroughly insane?"

"I don't know."

"Ok. Look, I've got to go to class," said Harry, gesturing towards the classroom.

"I'll go with you, incase the teacher wants to be mad at you for being late. I can tell him…you were with Dumbledore." Harry raised his eyebrows at the small, defenseless thirteen year old girl.

"I don't think he'll care what you have to say." But Benton seemed determined to go, so Harry pushed the door open, and a great many people looked up as they entered.

"Harry!" cried Hermione, "Where have you been?"

"Where, indeed?" inquired Snape.

"I've been in Professor Dumbledore's office," said Harry, looking at Snape defiantly.

"Take your seat," said Snape, looking disappointed.

"Why were you in Professor Dumbledore's office?" asked Hermione as Harry and Benton sat down at her and Ron's table. Harry told them what had happened.

"Justin will be glad to hear it," said Neville.

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

"Shia is Justin's cousin. He was very worried about him. I heard him talking about it this morning at breakfast." Harry frowned.

"I didn't hear anything."

"It was after you left."

"Work on your potion, Harry!" said Benton, tugging on Harry's sleeve. Harry looked up and saw Snape coming menacingly his way, and bent quickly over his cauldron. After a few minutes, he looked over at Neville, remembering his conversation with Benton. Her parents were dead…. Harry felt a kinship to Benton, and this new information had stiffened his resolve. He was going to find out what was going on with Benton.


	3. Jade Green

Harry walked into the Great Hall, at lunchtime, with Hermione and Ron. He looked around for Cecelia. She was not there, but Benton was sitting at the end of the Slytherin table with Draco Malfoy. Harry tried to think where Cecelia could be. He remembered that morning, at breakfast, when Cecelia had asked him where Shia was. He had used the Marauder's Map to find him. He could use the Marauder's Map now to find Cecelia. The Marauder's Map was still in his pocket.

"I'll be right back," he said to Ron and Hermione, "I've got to go to the toilette." He tried to walk calmly out of the Great Hall, so as not to attract any attention. He wanted a moment alone with Cecelia.

Harry walked, his heart beating wildly with the effort of appearing calm, up the marble staircase, and when he reached Cecelia's room, he stopped. He pulled out the map and saw that she was indeed in her room.

Harry wondered how he was going to get in. He tried to remember how Cecelia had opened it yesterday, when she had introduced them to Benton. She hadn't said any password or anything. She had just opened the door.

So Harry opened the door. Cecelia's room was through a little hallway to the left. The hallway bent strangely and turned into a staircase. Harry thought it must have been designed by Cecelia herself.

At last Harry came to Cecelia's room. There was a doorway, but, instead of a door, some light curtains hanging down. Harry pushed his way through them, and found Cecelia looking at him in slight concern.

"Oh, Harry. Hi."

"Hi. Cecelia? Do you know Benton very well?"

"I like you, Harry. Benton does, too. We're both fond of people who don't beat around the bush. But other than that, no, I don't know her very well.

"We're only cousins, after all, and she's from U.S.A. Virginia, to be more exact. When Benton's parents died, a social-worker called my mother and asked her if she wanted to take Benton. But of course, my mother said no, because that's the kind of person she is. My mother only feels any kind of obligation to herself. Not to her niece, not even really to her daughter…me, I mean." Harry noticed some similarities between Benton's situation and his own.

"My parents died, too, only, my aunt _did_ take me in. And she definitely cares about her own son. Why did the social-worker call your mother? Wasn't there anyone else…?"

"No. My mother and I were Benton's only living relatives, as far as we know, and as far as the social-worker knew. When my mother refused—rather nastily, I might add—Benton was left in an orphanage. I wrote to her, despite my mother's ridicule. —My mother doesn't understand love, so she makes fun of people who feel it.— And I managed to go visit Benton a few times, but I didn't really know her all that well. It _is_ hard to get to know someone under those circumstances. But I did want to know her. I didn't give up, and when I found that I was going to be staying here, I arranged for her to come stay. Now, maybe we can both have a real family." For just a moment, Harry felt immensely sorry for both of them. Then, he forced himself to stop, because he didn't think they wanted that.

"How did her parents die?"

"I don't know. I was only four when it happened. And, you know, my mother doesn't care about other people, so of course she would never talk about it, and it isn't the social-worker's business, so no one's ever talked about, I don't think."

"So, you don't suppose Benton knows? I mean, her parents death couldn't have had any effect on her, could it?"

"You wouldn't think so, would you? Since she was only a year old when it happened? But, although she cannot remember what happened, and she can't remember her parents, Benton is occasionally terrified by the color green, and she's sure it has something to do with her parents' death."

A jet of green light extinguished the life in Cedric Diggory's body. Harry was spun around, and he saw the same thing happen to his parents. Then his field of vision was filled with green light, and he felt himself crying, wailing like a baby. He woke up in time to stop himself from actually crying. He looked into the darkness of the dormitory and felt cut off from the world. Was this what Benton meant by feeling disconnected from the world? Did she walk around feeling like she was shrouded in darkness? Did she feel…powerless?


	4. The Birthday Party

Over the next month, Harry thought endlessly about Benton and her parents, but he had no idea what to say to her. He didn't really feel like going into all the gory details of his encounters with Voldemort, which he might have to do if he wanted to find out about Benton's fear of the color green. Harry was pretty sure that Benton was a Muggle, as he had never seen her do any magic, and Cecelia had almost said she was a Muggle on September 1st, so he didn't think she would know about the _Aveda Kedavra_ curse, or Voldemort, or the Boy Who Lived. Harry also wanted to ask Benton about her feelings of isolation, but he didn't know how to put that feeling or question into words.

"Hey, P-Harry," said Malfoy, as they stood outside potions class on October 1st. He looked pained about something. "Benton's birthday is October 19th. I'm thinking…let's give her a party." Benton had been hanging around the Slytherin table at mealtimes, and she had been seen most everywhere with Draco Malfoy. Harry couldn't help being a little concerned.

"All right," said Harry slowly.

"You know, anyone who wants to can come…I'll ask Professor Snape if we can use some classroom one evening."

"Maybe we could ask Dumbledore to mention her at dinner."

"No, that'd be like inviting the whole school to her birthday party. I only want people who _like_ her coming. And, anyway, no one else ever gets their birthday mentioned."

"Oh, yeah. I bet Dumbledore wouldn't want to show favoritism."

"Are you kidding? He does it all the time." Malfoy looked really angry for a moment. "I mean…."

"Nevermind it," said Harry firmly. "I'll tell Hermione and the others, shall I?"

"Yeah. And see if there's anyone else who wants to come. I'll ask around too…." Draco suddenly seemed embarrassed about something. He wandered off with a vague expression on his face, and they entered the classroom.

Harry sat down at a table at the very back with Ron and Hermione. Then Cecelia came in. Harry moved to make room for her, but she went to sit with Draco. Hermione noticed Harry's look of surprise.

"Remember, last year they were very close. I think they might even have been boyfriend and girlfriend."

"They were?"

"Oh, Harry, sometimes you are so dense."

"But, they're not boyfriend and girlfriend anymore, are they?"

"I don't know. Why?"

"Well, I had kind of thought…that Malfoy might be interested in Benton."

"What! Benton's just a little kid."

"She's thirteen."

"Malfoy's 17." Harry didn't see Hermione's point, but he decided not to pursue the subject any further.

"Listen, Malfoy wants to have a birthday party for Benton. It's on the 19th. You and Ron are invited."

"Malfoy invited us to something?" asked Ron, looking amazed.

"Only because we're friends with Benton."

Harry now noticed that the room was very quiet. Everyone was concentrating on their potions. Without another word, Harry turned to his own potion, Ron and Hermione following suit, and they didn't speak again for the rest of the class.

At dinner, on October 19th, Malfoy and Cecelia were seen passing out pieces of paper. Cecelia came over to the Gryffindor table, and gave pieces of paper to Neville, Ginny, Luna, Dean, Seamus, Ron, Hermione, and Harry. Then Draco came over. They whispered to eachother for a minute, and then Cecelia took a pile of the papers over to Benton, who was up at the teacher's table, talking to Dumbledore.

Harry looked at the paper. It was light lavender in color, and it was folded in half like a birthday card.

"Oh!" It almost _was_ a birthday card; it was an invitation to a birthday party. "They've made formal invitations."

"Lavender is Cecelia's favorite color," said Hermione, wonderingly.

"So, we'll be going to Benton's party after dinner?" Ginny asked Ron.

"I guess so. I don't know why I'm invited, though."

"You're invited for the same reason we are," said Seamus.

"We were in her room on the first day," explained Dean, "To her, I suppose, that's enough to make us friends."

"Hello, Harry." Harry looked up in surprise. Cho Chang was standing behind him. "You're—having a party?"

"It isn't us. It's for—well, just have a look at the invitation, if you want." He handed her the invitation, and she took it. She opened it, and tried not to look upset.

"Benton!" she called, turning toward the teacher's table and dropping the invitation, letting it flutter to the floor, and she walked towards Benton, who walked towards her. Harry heard her ask Benton if she could come to her party. Benton very obviously said she could.

"I've heard that fear is the only enemy," said Harry, to whoever would listen, "But what about ignorance? I feel like there's so much I don't know. So much, I don't even know what questions to ask." Harry looked up and saw all his friends nodding agreement.

After dinner, the students began to file out of the Great Hall. A surprisingly large number of people were heading into a small chamber to the left of the Great Hall. It wasn't so much a party as a bunch of people milling around aimlessly. Harry saw Benton, and moved near her. Not knowing what to say, he stayed about 10 feet away from her. He watched her talking very amiably with each of the students in turn. She no longer had that vague look in her eyes. He watched Malfoy come up to her and talk to her like a brother. He realized that the relationship he had witnessed between them was like that of a brother and sister (maybe a brother and sister who had just found eachother, because Ron and Ginny didn't often act like that).

"Hi, Harry," said Benton, looking nervously happy. He had been so absorbed in his thoughts that he hadn't seen her coming.

"Harry. Remember when I said that sometimes I feel disconnected from the world?" Harry nodded. "Well—" Benton looked over at Malfoy. "I don't feel like that anymore. Ever! Ever since I've been hanging around Draco … I've felt more alive, for lack of a better way to put it." Benton looked at Harry and saw that he had the same vague look she had often had. "What's wrong, Harry?" Harry looked into Benton's eyes, and felt disconnected from the world. He forced himself to speak, to say anything.

"Green." Benton's happiness faltered.

"What?"

"Green," said Harry, gathering his strength, "You fear the color green." Benton looked like she might cry.

"Yeah?" Harry thought of all he would have to say, so that Benton would have any idea what was going on. He couldn't, not now, not at her birthday party. _When in doubt, go to the library._ That was how Cecelia had found out about Harry's strange past last year. She had read only about 100 books in the library.

"Library," said Harry, "Tomorrow. Morning. I'll wake you." And he stalked away, unwilling to pollute Benton's happy day anymore than he already had, yet unable to get into the right mood for a party. Harry walked up to his dormitory, his head clouded with something completely unlike thoughts.

Ron wasn't in the common room, which was a bit of a relief to Harry. He couldn't think right now. He didn't even feel sentient. But he was conscious enough to realize that, when Ron wasn't in the dormitory either, he was at Benton's birthday party, along with the other Gryffindor boys. Ah, to feel, and laugh, and play.


	5. Benton's Memory

The next morning, as Harry and Benton entered the library, Harry felt he had left a part of himself sleeping in the dormitory. He wished the part of him that was here could go back and all of him could go to sleep forever. Then he realized that he did not really want that. He did not want to continue feeling like this and he didn't want to give into it.

"We probably won't need books," said Harry, forcing himself out of his torpor, "But we do need a quiet place." They sat down at one of the tables towards the back of the library.

"Cecelia told me you fear the color green," Harry said, trying to keep this very business-like, to stop his feelings of isolation from taking over.

"I told her that occasionally I am terrified of the color green, and, somehow, I am certain it has something to do with my parents' death."

"Right. Well … When I was younger, I used to try to remember the car crash my parents died in. I mean, they didn't die in a car crash, but that's how my aunt and uncle told me they died, so I believed it, and I tried to remember. All I could ever remember was someone laughing and lot of green light." Benton inhaled sharply.

"Green light?"

"Yeah. And, well, it turns out that the green light was part of a curse that was used to kill my parents and to attempt to kill me." Harry stopped talking, letting what he had said sink in.

"So you think someone killed my parents with that same curse? And maybe they tried to kill me too?"

"Well, really all I was thinking was that someone killed your parents, not that they tried to kill you, although it's possible. And it might not have been the same curse. It could've been another one, I guess. I mean, lots of curses use red light. So there could be more than one to use green light."

"Ok," said Benton, prodding him on.

"So, well, I guess what I'm thinking is that your parents were somehow connected to the wizarding world. Maybe they were a witch and a wizard. Or maybe they had family who was."

"My only living relatives were Cecelia and her mother," said Benton confidently.

"Oh. Well, still, they could've been connected in way. Why don't you try to remember, remember all you can about your parents and about the day they died. Were you there?" Benton shook her head.

"I _can't_ remember, Harry. I was only a year old!" Harry leaned toward her.

"No," he said firmly, "I was only a year old when my parents died, but I do remember it." Harry recalled how, when the dementors had come near him, he had heard Lily Potter scream. Then realized something very important. "But I only really remembered it after coming in contact with dementors." Benton looked confused.

"What?" Harry looked excited.

"All we have to do is…wait, no. I was going to say all we have to do it find a boggart, but it only turns into a dementor for _me_. Although, it couldn't hurt to try. If that doesn't work, I don't know what we'll do, because we definitely don't want to seeking out actual dementors."

"Maybe I could use a Pensieve," said Benton helpfully.

"What?" said Harry, surprised that Benton knew that word.

"I saw Albus Dumbledore's Pensieve. He told me what it was. Maybe I could use one of those and we could look at my repressed memories." Harry stared in thought for a moment. He didn't understand how Pensieves or thoughts worked, but it seemed the best plan.

"All right. Can you get one? Tell me when you do."

"Ok."

Harry and Benton left for the Great Hall for breakfast. Benton went to the Slytherin table where Draco was sitting. Benton had things on her mind, too. Since the first week of school, she had been wondering something, and the birthday party last night had pushed her to mention it to Draco, actually for the second time.

"Draco."

"Hi, Benton," Draco said, as though greeting his little sister, very happy to see her.

"Remember what I said, the first day we met? That we look alike?"

"Yeah, I remember. It's cool isn't it? It's like, we can pretend to be brother and sister."

"Well … if we were with people who didn't already know us, we could. But, anyway, what I was thinking is that maybe we don't have to pretend. I mean, not that we're brother and sister, but, I mean, maybe we're related…." All of Draco's friendliness vanished, though he wasn't being nasty yet.

"Impossible. My family is completely, purely wizard."

"But, I—" And then Benton remembered something from her talk with Harry. "I think my parents might have been wizards." Draco stared at Benton, clearly flabbergasted.

"But you're a Muggle," he said sensibly, "You can't do any magic." Benton's eyes went to Draco's wand.

"We'll see." And she grabbed his wand. He didn't try to stop her, because he hadn't any idea what she was reaching for.

"Redere Incantatem," she said, vaguely waving the wand around. She didn't know what would happen. She didn't know if "redere incantatem" was a real spell. But she knew what she _wanted_ to happen, without even having to think about it.

Two shapes appeared at the table. They looked human, but they were grey, like smoke. They looked shocked, then, when they saw Benton, happily surprised, and then they saw Draco Malfoy and looked confused and then angry, and then they disappeared. In all, they were there for about 4 seconds.

Draco took his wand back. He looked shocked.

"I don't know what you just did, but I guess you are a witch. And we look so much alike. We probably are related. We should ask my father about it."

Benton walked away from the table and out of the Great Hall and was not seen for the rest of the day.


End file.
